


How Do You Like My Posters?

by Viktor_suoh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comforting Katsuki Yuuri, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Victor Nikiforov, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Not too detailed, Sex, Song fic but not really, Viktor hates himself :/, Yakov is mentioned - Freeform, Yuuris mom is mentioned once, this is a bit of a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viktor_suoh/pseuds/Viktor_suoh
Summary: Yuuri gets to the bottom of what he knows Viktor isn't telling him. Viktor has a jolly old time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What is up my dudes. This is a fic based off of the song "Undisclosed Desires" you gotta listen to it, its great. Its also attributed to the fact that viktor doesnt say shit when hes in pain so. Theres that. Hope you can enjoy.

_I know you’ve suffered but I don’t want you to hide_

 

The bed creaked under the Yuuri as he shifted his weight to look into the eyes of Viktor Nikiforov. The legend himself, on Yuuri’s bed. Telling Yuuri that everything was fine. Lying, very badly, on his feelings towards coming back to skating. Yuuri never thought he’d get the opportunity to tell Viktor Nikiforov he was spouting bullshit, but here he is.

 

“Viktor, tell me the truth.” He said, keeping his voice steady as Viktor’s smile stood between him and squeezing the emotions out of his fiancé. The smile faltered and stumbled for a second, before coming back to full health- apparently leveling up, because when Viktor said “That is the truth,” Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to keep pressing the issue.

 

_It’s cold and loveless, I won’t let you be denied_

 

Yuuri rolled over, Viktor toppling with him. The sex had been a tired, lifeless thing, just to get off after practice and relax. Viktor hadn’t even finished before he laid down with Yuuri and scooped him into his arms. That was awkward. Yuuri told himself he was worried about the awkward position and not the sickening feeling that Viktor had deliberately ignored himself. He could have said something, anything akin to the soft cough and nod Yuuri had given Viktor on their first time and Yuuri could have easily dealt with the problem. Viktor didn't seem to care about himself, and if he did… he didn't seem to think Yuuri cared.

 

_Soothing_

_I'll make you feel pure_

 

Yuuri’s hands clasped Viktor’s face as the intoxicated man swayed slightly.

 

After finally getting him to the hotel room Viktor had demanded a bath and food, even when Yuuri had said he should drink some water first. He’d gotten some water into him by sliding him a glass and saying it was vodka. Drunk Viktor couldn't tell the difference, and if he could he didn't say anything to Yuuri. He managed to wrangle Viktor out of his clothes and into his silliest pajamas- a little gift for hungover Viktor to wake up to.

 

As he slid into the hotel bed with Viktor staring at the ceiling, Viktor started crying. Silently, but Yuuri saw the crystalline drops building in his eyes and sliding down his cheeks faster than anyone might think. He silently cursed that anyone could look beautiful while crying, but that was just what Viktor did.

 

So now Yuuri is cradling the Russians head in his hands as Viktor lets out pathetic little sobs. Viktor’d always been over emotionall when he was drunk, but he hardly ever cried, drunk or otherwise. He never sobbed. Always quiet.

 

“Vitya. Look at me, are you ok?”

 

Viktor tilted his head to look into brown eyes and smiled sadly. Yuuri’s heart twinged painfully. He hated Viktor. He didn't hate Viktor. He hated that Viktor insisted on not showing Yuuri the things he desperately needed to see. He knows virtually nothing of Viktor’s past. Viktor knows that Yuuko’s first birthday present to Yuuri was a picture of him cut carefully from a magazine and glued to a piece of cardboard to keep steady. That was hardly fair, they both knew it.

 

“Yuuri, you treat me so good.” Viktor said, smiling growing wider and sadder by the millisecond. “I'll never live up to it,”

 

_Trust me, you can be sure._

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart._

Viktor was tired, sweaty and hormonally overwhelmed. He had finished his free program, winning his first and only Grand Prix Final so far. He hair was tangled from the action, his emotions were out of bounds. He was on a one way ticket to fame, setting records so quickly the news stopped bothering to report it. He was bound to be an absolute legend. He had no idea if he wanted that.

 

Doesn't matter now.

 

He walks down the red carpet, smiling as brightly and and shapely as he can. He is genuinely happy for the win, but he wants to go home and soak in Lilia’s big tub. She said he could use it after this skate. Yakov walks next to him, spinning the wedding ring on his finger and smiling proudly for the camera. Viktor swells. He does love it when Yakov isn't scolding him, and loves it even more when it's because there's nothing to scold. Viktor’s performance had been perfect.

 

Just like him, his new found fans say. Like our perfect Vitya. Viktor secretly hates being called Vitya by people he doesn't know, hates the possessive undertone of their “pride.” He smiles anyway. He's not an idiot. He knows he needs the support. But this was something different. The tugging of his head, jerking back and yelping. Yakov looks startled, turning to look only to see Viktor had already gotten himself back into camera perfect formation. He frowns.

 

Viktor comes home to find a small chunk chopped off of his hair when he finally combs it all out.

 

He’s so angry and sad over such a small thing, but it feels like they’ve ripped off something that's not rightfully theirs. Lilia pats him comfortingly, says he’ll get used to it, says his hair will grow back just as pretty.

 

He braids his hair on red carpet walks now.

 

_I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask_

 

**_“My beautiful boy.”_ **

****

**_Viktor shivered. The memory of his ex boyfriend's hands on his body was suffocating. He doesn't want to remember the sex. He doesn't want to remember the people using him. He doesn't want to remember their possessive pronouns. Mine._ **

 

“What?” Yuuri turned from the dishes to stare at Viktor at the table. Viktor had been testing a theory.

 

“Do you like my posters younger or older?” Viktor repeated. Yuuri seemed just as baffled as before.

 

“I don't care. Your posters are all angled to make you look ethereal.” Yuuri said, raising an eyebrow before turning back to the sink. “Why do you ask?”

 

“No reason.”

 

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

 

“Viktor.”

 

Viktor turned to him, keeping his face as slack as possible. He was going to cry. He didn't want to cry in front of Yuuri. Yuuri has enough on his plate. Yuuri is having a good time right now. Yuuri didn't need to deal with Viktor’s problems. Viktor would deal with this later. Viktor was going to be-

 

“Yakov, I'm sorry, we're going home.”

 

What?

 

No, they had practice? Yakov wouldn't understand, and if he did Viktor didn't want to ask such a thing from him but- Yuuri was already dragging him away. Viktor could feel himself slipping into a numb sort of trance. He was disassociating.

 

Yuuri was worried. So worried. His Vitya looked so stressed, so overwhelmed. He followed Yuuri into the car without a fuss- not a Viktor thing to do. He wishes Viktor had told him earlier. Yuuri would have told him, Viktor has long since earned the others trust. Yuuri knows Viktor would go through hell or high water to get Yuuri what he needed during a panic attack, or sickness, or dissociation, or whatever was wrong. Dry anger welled up inside him. He took it out on the taxi driver.

 

_I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart._

Yuuri dragged Viktor into the house and kissed him so hard he couldn't feel the anger. He hoped Viktor wouldn't feel it either. Viktor seemed to keep up with slow, steady movements. Pulling Yuuri closer and moving his hands up and down Yuuri’s arms in a calm manner, the same way he did when Yuuri was panicking. Yuuri kissed harder. What was he going to do? He wasn't the one panicking, Viktor was! He’s never been met with this situation, Viktor has never warned him that this might happen, what his boundaries are.

 

Normally Viktor would be saying something to tell Yuuri everything was fine, that he would deal with it and nothing big would change without warning. Now he stared into the glossed over eyes of his love and wondered…

 

Affection? He could try it. Viktor had always been clingy, maybe that was his comfort. Yuuri moved his lips to Viktor’s jaw and wrapped his arms around the slim waist tight. Viktor started gently in his arms. That seemed to bring his consciousness swimming closer to the surface.

 

“Yuuri… We have practice. Back to the rink…” He muttered quietly, squishing Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri’s heart squeezed.

 

“Hush Vitya. We have plenty of sick days, you can have this one.” Yuuri said. It was true, Viktor had reserved many days in advance to take in case Yuuri got sick from the cold air in St. Petersburg. Yuuri knew many would be spent with Viktor holding him to the bed because he didn't want to get up. In exchange Viktor and Yuuri do harder training than the rest of the team usually do, but they both think it's fair.

 

“Those are for you. I'm not sick.” Viktor was putting up a front. Yuuri was glad Viktor was returning to his body, but he was not going to allow Viktor to run this time.  He bit Viktor’s neck and felt him breathe in sharply before sighing and melting into the touch. Sensitive.

 

“You don't feel good. You would take me home if you knew I was doing this to myself.” Yuuri pointed out.

 

“I'm not doing anything to myse-”

 

Yuuri bit him right above the last spot. Viktor whimpered and clutched him.

 

“You are hiding from me. You’re not saying anything when you need help. That's something I would do and I understand but- Viktor, I don't…” Yuuri was so frustrated. All he wanted was to help and he had no idea how to do that. Viktor held on tighter.  He’s waiting for Yuuri to finish.

 

Yuuri sighs “You’re not too much. You know that right?” That's the best way to sum up what he wants to say. He takes a minute to process, for Viktor to process, before it clicks.

 

“I am a bit awful, aren't I?” Viktor says after Yuuri teases him about buying him so many things. Yuuri has never known how to respond to people spoiling him, but Viktor had gone to Hiroko-san to see just what kind of sparkles he wanted.

 

“Thank you.” Viktor had said after a fan had approached him and said something along the lines of “you’re so pretty with long hair Vitya!” Yuuri had frowned, pushed the fan away. Viktor neglected to cut his hair for 3 months after that. Yuuri was a fan, but the sudden change was strange.

 

“I don't think I'll ever live up to it”

 

“Do you like my posters younger or older?”

 

Viktor tensed. Yuuri almost cried right then and there.

 

“I can't believe,” Yuuri bit into Viktor’s neck, under the original mark again. “How stupid I am.” Viktor sagged into him.

 

“Y-Yuuri, don’t say that about yourself- mngh!”

Yuuri licked the mark he left on pale collarbones.

 

“What about the stuff you say about yourself, Viktor?” Yuuri slid his hands into his coach’s coat and slid it off, Viktor seemed to be able to breath more properly now that the heavy weight was off of him. Note to self, Yuuri thought, Viktor does not like pressure. He reflected on the irony before turning back to his lover.

 

Who currently looked like he was on the verge of a seizure. Shit, what did he do?

 

“You weren't supposed to- That doesn't- I'm  sorry, I don’t-” He kept sputtering. Jesus, this is killing Yuuri. Viktor never planned on telling him any of his insecurities? He was ready to stab a man.

 

“If any of those sentences imply that you weren't going to tell me you think you're not good enough as you are, save it.” Yuuri didn't mean to be so harsh, but he was so frustrated.

 

“Tell me right now. What is so wrong with you?” Yuuri demanded. Viktor gulped as Yuuri pushed them gently through the hall, leading to the bedroom.

 

“I- I’m loud. I’m eccentric. I can't last a minute on my own, I’m so codependent. All my life I've selfishly denied being anyone's, but here I am in your arms, and I don't want anything but to make you happy and be yours.” Viktor pushes out. Yuuri keeps kissing him all over his neck and face, hands rubbing up and down his torso.  Yuuri knows there's more, knows Viktor shifted the subject to Yuuri.

 

“What else is there Vitya?” Yuuri asks sternly.

Viktor pauses before saying:

 

“I’m scared you're going to leave if I'm not enough.”

 

Yuuri’s heart shattered in two.

 

“No no no no no, absolutely not Vitya! Why would I do that? You know I love you no matter what!” Viktor just looked down. He was dissociating again, Yuuri had to do something. He bit into Viktor’s collarbone and slid his hands under Viktor’s shirt, hearing the soft moan and several whimpers from him.

 

“Viktor, can you do something for me?”

Yuuri said, face still in the crook of Viktor’s neck. No response. Viktor seems to really be drifting.

 

“Vitya.” Yuuri says, louder this time, more firm. Viktor responds slowly, looking at him through droopy eyes. “Can you do something for me?”

 

Viktor seems to process the request, before nodding gently. Yuuri sighed, relieved. He could consent. Viktor’s eyes were open and honest. As if saying “anything, i’ll do anything” Yuuri hummed happily for a second, reveling in Viktor’s love before he threw his plan into action.

 

“Don't move a muscle. No talking, no sounds.”

 

Viktor stiffened. Yuuri continued to lick and bite at his neck until strings of hickeys were everywhere on the right side of his neck. The left side Yuuri decided to save for later. Viktor did just as he was told, and Yuuri basked in the obedience. He wracked his nails up and down Viktor’s back, and while Viktor shuffled and wiggled, not a sound could be heard.

 

Yuuri inched his way up to Viktor’s ear from the bite marks on his neck.

 

“Tell me what you want.”

 

Yuuri whispered, as tenderly as he could given the circumstances. This was definitely more for Viktor than it was him, but he fully enjoyed the feeling of having Viktor at his beck and call. Viktor let out a little whimper and clutched Yuuri’s chest.

 

“Please take off my shirt Yuuri, please, please…” Viktor sounded like a mess. Yuuri felt so pleased. How would he react?

 

“Only for my perfect Vitya.” Yuuri says, and waits for the reaction. Viktor says he wants to be no one but his, but he knows Viktor has issues with people owning him. Viktor only stares. He twitches a couple times, probably from hold his muscles still for so long, and he make a face at Yuuri. It doesn't look happy.

  
“Why would you say that like you're trying to test me?” Viktor asks. Yuuri feels a pang in the gut and knows what he did wrong. It hurt still to have the same words he used to knock sense into Viktor be used to slap him in the face. If Viktor could consent, he could talk. They could talk this out. Yuuri didn't need to experiment on him, hasn't needed to since Viktor had nodded his head yes. Yuuri pushed that. Yuuri was going to stab himself in the eyes repeatedly. 


	2. Not an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter

Hey homies do you want me to continue this because i will if its requested but i dont wanna write this

**Author's Note:**

> Ya imma split this up i cannot keep writin like this,,, ill give nyall the smut when it doesnt come out looking like garbage. Expect something soon. Hopefull youll find my story worth it


End file.
